Sulfuric smoke seared Turok's lungs as he groped blindly along the cliff face. Only a slender ribbon of rock stood between him and a fifty-fathom plunge into the lava flow. "Curse that wretched sorceress" he hissed, "If she has betrayed me,....". It was an empty threat. Even if he did survive this quest, he had no power to match the one who had sent him here. But he must survive! He must succeed! For if he failed to rescue the daughters of King Aamon from the clutches of Memnoch, Aamon would launch his vast, but mortal army against Memnoch's legions of the undead. The result would be the slaughter of thousands of valiant soldiers. Skilled as they were, you cannot kill that which does not live. And each soldier who fell would instantly be reanimated as a servant of Memnoch, turning his sword against his own men. Aamon knew this. But Memnoch knew that Aamon's love was greater than his wisdom, and his soldiers' loyalty was greater than their fear.
Suddenly, the outcropping crumbled beneath Turok's feet. Instinctively, he drew his dagger and plunged it into the rock face. Hanging from this makeshift piton, Turok watched the rocks vaporize in the molten river below. Finding a finger-hold, he pulled himself back onto the ledge, re-sheathed his dagger and continued on. Soon, a faint green glow caught his eye. Edging closer, he found the jade stone, teardrop shaped, just as the sorceress had predicted. He placed his hand upon the stone, and it began to throb with an emerald glow. The mountainside trembled as a large section of the cliff face slid reluctantly back, revealing a tunnel running deep into the bowels of the mountain. Small rocks began raining down upon Turok. Looking up, he saw a large boulder plummeting from the mountaintop, right toward him! He lunged forward into the opening just as the boulder obliterated the ledge where he had stood.
He immediately started down the tunnel. Torches spewing acrid black smoke provided scant illumination as he groped his way down, always down. It seemed he had traveled for miles when, at last, he rounded a bend and saw a faint blue glow at the far end of the passage. Creeping stealthily towards the opening, Turok found himself at the edge of an air duct, set ten feet up the side of a large cave. The floor and walls of the cave were polished obsidian. In the center stood two black altars which seemed to have been grown from the rock floor. Atop each altar lay one of the princess, unbound, but captive nonetheless. From their naked bodies, waves of crimson light pulsed toward an evil looking device suspended from the ceiling. Memnoch was drawing the life force from the princesses, using their power to feed his army. Cautiously peering out from the opening, Turok saw no guards in the cavern. Obviously Memnoch believed his fortress to be impregnable, a fatal mistake. Turok dropped effortlessly to the floor, and paused, crouched, listening for any sign of approaching danger. Satisfied, he approached the altars.
For a moment, Turok stared, mesmerized by the beauty before him; the honey skin, the delicate features of their beautiful faces, framed by cascades of golden curls, the full, firm breasts topped with turgid pink nipples, rising and falling rhythmically, the only sign that the girls were alive. He moved to the side of the altar which held Allani, the first born, and remembered the sorceress's cryptic instructions. "While she sleeps, no mortal power can remove the captive beauty from the black altar." She had whispered. "To awaken her, you must share your life force. Two must become one, for only together can you break the Dark Lord's bonds." Damn these mystics! Why must they always be so obtuse?
Turok's gaze flowed down the supine body before him, coming to rest between her slightly parted thighs, where the mound of her passion lay scarcely concealed beneath glistening wisps of golden down. His manhood swelled in response, pressing against the rough cloth of his tunic. He began to chastise himself for having such impure thoughts about the daughter of the king when, in a flash of inspiration, he understood the sorceress's words! The two must become one! Ripping the tunic from his loins, Turok sprang onto the altar, positioning himself between the legs of his future queen. Gently holding her ankles, he spread her legs further apart, his eyes transfixed upon her sex, which opened like a blooming rose, beckoning him.
He brushed his callused fingers across her pouting lips, feeling that she was dry; too deep in her slumber to respond to his touch. He dared not cause the princess pain by taking her unprepared. Bowing almost reverently, Turok placed his mouth on the sweet royal pussy. He bathed her outer lips with his tongue, nudging past the folds of silken flesh, to the opening beneath. He pressed his tongue gently into her hot tunnel, deeper and deeper, until he was met by a trickle of sweet nectar. Pulling back, he watched as her impulsive clitoris emerged from its fleshy shroud. He couldn't resist a kiss, a lick, a tender suckle on her brash little bud. He felt her hips twitch involuntarily. He looked up and saw her chest rising and falling with deeper breaths, her nipples growing harder with each crest.
He climbed up, his body hovering atop hers, and gazed into her eyes, still transfixed in a vacant stare. Her body was responding, but he had yet to reach her mind. So be it! With mounting excitement, and more than a little trepidation, Turok placed the swollen head of his engorged cock against the princess's glistening hole. As gently as a prayer, he pressed his cockhead between her yielding lips, shuddering as he felt it engulfed in her hot wetness. Restraining his anxious desire, he began to gyrate, slowly, intentionally, diving just a little deeper with each thrust, until at last the fullness of him was buried within her. Still, she stared blankly, oblivious to her violation. Turok began to pump, in and out, the molten grasp of her vagina driving him to fruition. With a final quivering thrust and a groan of animal lust, Turok released his seed into the womb of his future queen, mingling his essence with hers, making the two one. At that moment, he heard a cry, a gasp, as raw and lusty as his own. Looking down, he saw Allani's head thrown back, her eyes wrenched shut, her face a twisted mask of the pain of rebirth soaked in orgasmic ecstasy. She threw her arms around his chest, pulling him onto her, as her legs wrapped around him, grinding her pussy hard against the base of his erupting cock. Her body shivered and convulsed beneath him, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the waves of her release subsided.
